


Thank the Mail Carrier

by komojasminera



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bottoming, F/F, F/M, Family Dynamics, Gay John Laurens, Gay Sex, Lawyer!Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Sex, Sexting, Size Difference, Size Kink, Topping, doctor!john laurens, single parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komojasminera/pseuds/komojasminera
Summary: A mix up with mail calls for a very interesting love story between Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens.





	1. Wrong Mail Compartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mix Up in Mail and A Date Promised

The mail carrier for the apartment complex has been mixing people’s mail up repetitively, and it seems that on the busiest days of Alexander’s life it happens. Alexander opens his mail compartment to get his mail. He skims through the mail until he sees a porn magazine in the stack of mail. Everyone who knows Alex would assume it was his because he has never been subtle about enjoying sex, but Alex didn’t order this magazine. Alex flips the magazine to see: John Laurens Apt 33.

Alex simply crouches to find the mail compartment numbered 33, but when he tugs on the handle, he finds it locked. Alex never understood why someone would lock their mail compartment. He’s been living here for two years, and none of his mail has been stolen.

He groans realizing he will have to return this by hand, and he promised Burr that he wouldn’t get into any altercations. However, he had his coffee when he made that promise. Right now, Alex is coffee-less. He trudges into the elevator and hits the button for the third floor. He sucks air through his teeth as he waits, and he couldn’t help but flip through the porn mag. He sees guys with giant dicks and positions he didn’t think were possible, and Alex has seen things no doubt.

The elevator dings. Alex steps out and goes to the second door on the right with a plaque that has ‘33’ engraved on it. Alex takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. He stands with most of his weight on his left hip. He hears shuffling in the apartment before the door swings open. Alex expects to see some greasy, old guy looking to get his rocks off on a magazine, but instead, he sees something totally different.

The man who opens the door is a guy in his mid-twenties that goes to the gym regularly. He has hazel eyes shielded by wire-rimmed glasses, freckles covering the entirety of his skin, dark, curly hair, a jawline that could cut a bitch, and he’s wearing the hell out of some navy-blue hospital scrubs.

Alexander is speechless for just a moment until he realizes he probably seems like a creep. “Uh, John Laurens?”

The taller male simply smiles, “I am John Laurens, and you are…”

Alexander clears his throat slightly, “Oh, I’m Alexander Hamilton. I live in the apartment complex, and I got some of your mail in my box.” Alexander extends his hand with the rolled-up magazine in it to John.

John takes the magazine from him, and he unravels it. Alex spots blood rushing to his cheeks as John sees that it is a porn magazine he ordered. “Oh, um. I’m sorry you got this. I wish Travis would fucking do his job correctly,” he apologizes, cursing the mail carrier in the process.

“You and me both,” Alex pipes in.

John laughs nervously in response looking ready to return to his apartment. “I guess, we’re done here?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Have a great day,” Alex bids farewell to the stranger that’s not so much a stranger anymore. Alex starts walking back to the elevator.

“You too,” John responds, shouting down the hallway. John closes the door to find a foot stopping it from shutting.

He opens the door again to see Alexander. “Hi, again. I know this is a shot in the dark, but would you may be like to go out sometime? I know assuming you’re gay or even single is bad, and I will apologize if my assumptions are incorrect, but I thought I should try it because you are very attractive. I have a thing for doctors and glasses and god, freckles. You have fucking adorable freckles, so I would like to take you out to dinner or coffee or a movie or something. Jesus, I am so bad at this,” he babbles on and on.

Alex doesn’t notice John’s grin widening as he continues to talk about his intentions and the what ifs or how or whatever the fuck tangent he is on. “I would love to. Go to dinner or whatever,” John answers with a smile that knocks Alexander out.

“Cool. I have to get to work now, but I will check and see when we are both free,” the Caribbean stutters out. He turns swiftly to get to the elevator.

“Alexander,” John grabs Alex’s attention.

Alex stops in his tracks and spins around, “Yes?”

“You forgot to ask me for my number,” John tells him leaning against his door frame like a human Adonis.

Alexander pulls his phone out and stalks back to John for the third time today. “Here, put your number in.”

John takes the phone and types his number in speedily. “Have a good day at work, Alexander.” John shuts the door, leaving Alexander to his own devices.

Alexander looks down at his phone to see John’s contact as “The Hot Doctor.” Alex genuinely already likes this guy, and he spots the time to see he’s late for work. “Jesus, this is the first and last time I will let a hot guy have me late for work,” he mutters when he gets in the elevator. The elevator doors shut. Then, he adds, “Unless ‘The Hot Doctor’ is fucking my brains out.”

Alexander walks into Washington & Dandridge Firm an hour late for work. The lady manning the front desk, Maria Reynolds, greets him. “Hello, Mr. Hamilton. You’re late for the first time like ever,” she says in disbelief.

“I know, ‘Ria. It’s unbelievable, and it’s never happening again,” he promises her. Maria simply rolls her eyes as her desk’s phone rings, and she answers it. He shakes his head knowing that more people are going to question his tardiness.

He tries to get by the paralegal, Elizabeth Schuyler, and her sister, Angelica Schuyler, who became a partner last year. “Alexander,” they call out in unison.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. He turns around and walks toward them knowing that he cannot escape their wrath. He stands next Eliza’s desk staring down at the two women with a bored look.

Eliza has dark, straight hair, dark eyes and very pale skin while Angelica has dark, curly hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. Although, the two sisters didn’t look like they were biologically-related, the two women had a connection not even blood could break.

“I overslept. No big deal. Goodbye, ladies,” he spits out the lie at the speed of the lightning and starts to walk to his office.

“Get your Caribbean ass back over here and tell the damn truth,” Angelica orders him.

He turns around with a frown. “The mail carrier keeps fucking with the mail at the complex, and I had to return the mail to its rightful owner. It was a porn mag, and the guy was fucking hot and a doctor…with freckles!”

Eliza starts to erupt into a cute giggle fit. “You had to return someone’s porn magazine to them in person? I would’ve just threw it in the trash instead of going through that terrible encounter.”

“I’m kind of glad I did because I asked him out, and he agreed. So, yeah,” Alex smugly informs them.

“No fucking way. You’re late because you are starting to date again. Jesus, this day just keeps better and better,” Angelica cackles.

“Hamilton,” Jefferson calls out to him.

“Good God, you jinxed it.”


	2. A Whole Lot of Something (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's Morning Routine with his Bambino; Lee's Fuck Up; Dating Advice with Nurse Schuyler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the second chapter, and I am shit at writing so bear with me. I think I can make this somewhat decent.
> 
> Also, a ton of misspellings. Sorry.
> 
> TW // Suicide mentioned

Dr. John Laurens has never been more embarrassed and delighted simultaneously. He locks his front door thinking back to just moments ago when a very attractive man returned his porn mag and asked him on a date. He thinks that is just insane.

His love life hasn't been very exciting hence the book of porn, and dates do not come very often. It's not that John isn't attractive or partner material; it's simply because most guys can't deal with John's schedule --shuffling is happening in the backroom where he just sees a fluff of curls come into view--and child.

He has a daughter. A beautiful, wonderfully adorable daughter that he loves to bits. She's nearly a spitting image of John except for the fire-red hair she possess, but her curls are still identical to her father's. She is a shade lighter than John with freckles seeming darker than they are due to her somewhat pale skin.

Frances Eleanor Laurens came into his life two years ago. She just turned three, but John wasn't notified of her existence until Child Protective Services came knocking at his door informing him that his ex-girlfriend had committed suicide, resulting in John obtaining custody. He took her in with open arms ready to adjust his life for this little human being. 

"What's up, Franny?" He puts the rolled up magazine behind his back. She smacks her lips, giving John a clear sign of being parched. "Let's get you some juice, and some pancakes before daycare. How's that sound?"

Franny nods with a big smile running into the kitchen. John laughs heartily following her, and he discreetly puts the magazine on top of the fridge. Somewhere Franny wouldn't be able to come across it so easily.

He grabs the apple juice container from the fridge and pours some into the Captain America sippy cup. He screws the top on it and hands it to her. She gladly takes it with tiny screams of delight, then she speeds out of the kitchen. John goes on to start mixing pancake mix and heating up the pan. Nearly thirty minutes later, he has four pancakes for him, and one pancake for his daughter.

"Franny, time to eat!"

Franny's little feet patter against the kitchen floor. He hands her her plastic plate, so she can woddle to her little table. She drops the plate onto the table -miraculously not knocking the food off it- and plops down in the tiny chair. 

John simply eats standing, watching the clock. He needes to be at work for the ten a.m. shift, and he needed to get Franny to the hospital's daycare before he clocks in for the day.

Franny takes her time eating which was what John had anticipated. Twenty minutes total. When she was full, he takes the plates and put them in the sink before going to dress her.

He picks a yellow dress with white leggings and yellow flats. He gets that on her with no difficulties. The hair portion is always a fiasco. He has to chase her around to even get her hair damp enough to detangle. Then, he literally has to clamp his thighs around her body to diffuse her curls. She eventually comes out with her hair done with a tiny, yellow flower clip holding her bangs away from her face. 

"Now, we can go," he tells his daughter whose making a stink face. He grabs her pre-packed daycare bag, his phone, wallet, keys, and Franny, the princess herself. 

He locks up his apartment and goes to his car. Strapping in Frances is no problem. He buckles himself in the driver's seat and heads to the hospital with "I Don't Dance" from High School Musical. For Franny's entertainment, although John doesn't hate it.

"I don't dance," John sings looking in the rearview mirror. He sees his daughter bobbing her head to the beat, patting her thighs with her tiny hands. "I know you can. Not a chance!" They arrive at the hospital having exhauated the Disney Pandora station. He check his phone to see he has twenty minutes.

He walks around the car to retrieve his daughter. She hops out of the car insisting that she can walk just fine. He leans over a bit to grab her hand wand navigate through the parking lot. 

He enters the hospital and goes straight to the daycare. When he walks in, he sees the director immediately.  

The director of the daycare is Sally Hemmings. She is a light skinned, African-American woman with her black hair always in a french braid of some sort. Her brown eyes kind. She is about a foot shorter than, and John is around 6"3. 

"Hello, Dr. Laurens. Hello, Franny Pack," she coos at Frances, "We're gonna have a wonderful day, aren't we?" She unlatches Fran's hand from John's carefully coaxing her into the daycare. 

"I love you, darling," John says to his daughter, and she just throws up a thumbs-up and runs off to play with the play kitchen.

"Dr. Laurens?"

"Yes, Ms. Hemmings?"

"We are going to administer a test for Frances today to see if there is any improvement in her verbal skills. If there's no improvement, I would suggest getting her a tutor to teach her Sign Lauguage, so she can communicate her wants and needs effectively," Ms. Hemmings states.

John nods, "Just let me know the results, and I will make arrangements for her. Have a good day, Ms. Hemmings."

"You too, Dr. Laurens."

 

"Dr. Hottie, reporting for duty," Nurse Schuyler purrs at John jokingly. She hands him his charts for rounds.

"Are you sure because I was thinking these scrubs made my butt look big," he turns around to look back at his ass.

"Jesus Christ, John, way to make this hetero sitch, not hetero anymore. I was practicing being straight," Peggy jokes.

John looks at her seriously, "I didn't buy it one bit." She chuckles in response. "Okay, back to being workinf professionals," he flips through his charts, "Pegs, why the fuck is Margaret Corbin off antibiotics?"

Nurse Schuyler peers at the chart, "Well, if you look closely at the notes, you will see Dr. Lee took her off her meds because he felt it wasn't necessary."

"Why wouldn't it be necessary? We just got rid of necrotizing fasciitis. A fleshing eating infection, and he takes her off her fucking antibiotics; the only thing keeping the infection to a minimum," John spews out angrily.

John flips through Corbin's chart to see that Lee made he request at nine a.m. right before the shift switch. "Peggy, come with me," he ordera heading off to his patient's room.

He can hear his blood pounding in his ears, and Peggy's sneakers scuffing against the floors. He walks into Margaret Corbin's room to see her fine, watching Jeopardy. John takes a deep and smiles big going into the room.

"Ms. Corbin," he greets the twenty-five year old woman.

"Hey, Dr. Laurs. What's up?" Corbin's blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and her blue eyes beaming with sudden interest. It is evident with Corbin's time spent here that she had a massive crush on Laurens.

"I just wanted to check the site of infection before putting you back on your antibiotics," he informs her.

"But Dr. What's-his-face just took me off of them," Margaret tries to argue.

"And in my professional opinion, that was not an ideal action," he quips back. He removes the bed sheet and lift up her gown to inspect the infection site on her thigh, and he sees the infection back and hitting full force. "Nurse Schuyler, load her with antibiotics, and book an OR."

That statement alarms Margaret. "Dr. Laurs, what's happening?"

Laurens glances at the scared young adult. He lifts up her gown for her to see. "Margaret," he points at her thigh, "the infection is back, and it is spreading and killing your skin tissue at an alarming rate. So, I will take you up to the OR to try and gain some control and localize the infection to start the healing process over."

Peggy is back with some forms for Margaret to sign. "I need you to sign these consenting to the surgery and-," John goes on to explain the risk if she goes through with the surgery and the risks of not doing the surgery, the healing process, the success rate (which was alarmingly low), but John wasn't going down without a fight.

The transport crew comes in and moves her to the Operating Room. Nurse Schuyler takes the forms from John to put thwm in their rightful place. John goes to the OR to prep for surgery. He scrubs his hands and arms free of any bacteria. He watches through the glass as Margaret Corbin is given anesthesia.

He walks into the operating room and waits for one of the scrub nurse to assist him with his gloves. He thanks them before rubbing down the surrounding area with Betadine. 

"10-Blade," he requests. He starts to cut the dead and infected tissue away from her person. He's nearly an hour in when Corbin's blood pressure drops rapidly. 

"Dr. Laurens, her BP is dropping," a scrub nurse announces.

"Okay, we are gonna give her another round of antibiotics. Let's give her somethinfmg to level out her BP," he orders. He waits for the nurses to administer the orders. He takes his scalpel and tries to work as fast and cautiously as possible.

Corbin's heart stops, and the heart monitor sounds a long beep. "Remove everything from the table," he moves us towards Corbin's upper body, "Starting chest compressions."

He places his hands over her sternum and pushes down the way he was taught in med school while someone uses a pump to push air into he lungs. 

"Charge to 150," he takes the paddles in hand, "Clear!" Everyone removes their hands from the patient as he shocks her. No response.

He goes back to compressions for a bit and request 200 charge. He shocks once, twice, a third time, and no response. He does this repetitively for thirty minutes, and her heart wouldn't start beating. He steps back to look at the clock. "Time of death: 12:42." He puts the paddles back and removes his mask from his face.

He thanks everyone for their services and leaves pissed. It wasn't the fact that he let a patient; he was pissed at the fact thay thia could have been avoiding if some imbecile didn't take her off her antibiotics sooner than necessary.

He walks up to the nurse's station to see Nurse Schuyler typing away at her computer and scribbling on post-it notes. "Pegs, I need Margaret Corbin's emergency contact information."

"Is she out of surgery already?" Peggy types in the patient's surname and scroll until she finds her.

"She didn't make it. Her BP dropped, then her heart stopped. I started CPR, and I went on for a while, but I had to call it," he explains with remorse.

"John, it's not your fault," she tries to console him.

"I know it wasn't my fault. I am just so fucking pissed because this could have been fucking prevented. She could have had no sign of infection in a week or two and be fine and living for fuck's sake," he says trying so hard to keep level-headed and not go to Lee's condo and kick his ass.

"How about I get Mannings to inform the family, and we go get some shit coffee in the cafeteria," Peggy suggests, soothingly rubbing his back.

"That would be less stressful," he agrees.

"One sec."

 

John and Peggy get their coffees and sit at one of the tables. John sips his coffee as Peggy takes the intiative to speak, "Lee shouldn't be a fucking doctor."

"Don't I know it," John grumbles in response. He keeps coffee close to his mouth as glares at no one in particular.

John's phone sounds. He grabs his phone and unlocks it to see a text from an unknown number.

 **unknown number:** Hi, this is Alexander from earlier. Sorry that I am just getting around to text you. Work has been busy. How is your day going?

John immediately changes the contact name to  **Awkward Alexander**. He smiles just a bit as he types a response.

 **john:** it's fine. i am not having a good day. a patient of mine died.

 **unknown number:** Sorry to hear that. Maybe I can take you out and rock your world?

John giggles. Literally giggles. A grown man giggling, and that catches Peggy's attention. With John preoccupied with texting Alex, John doesn't anticipate her snatching his phone of his hands and scrolling through the messages.

"Jacky's got himself a mans," Peggy announces a little too loud for his liking.

"Peggy, give me my damn phone," he reaches from his seat to grab at it missing.

"Nope." She types something in his phone hurriedly and tosses it at him.

He catches the phone and looks at the text messages to see:

 **john:** i am so horny for you.

"What the fuck, Peggy?"

She cackles maniacally, "What? You know it's true. You've been on this dry spell for almost a year since your encounter with cute marketing sales, Francis Kinloch."

"I just met him today. I don't want him to get the idea that I am only interested in a booty call," he argues.

"But tapping that ass isn't the worst possibility, right?"

"Not the worst," he concludes.

"Then, fuck him. Thank you for consulting with the dating guru, Peggy Schuyler!" She jumps up and leaves in the cafeteria alone with his coffee and an incoming message.

 **awkward alexander:** Really? Do you think I can get a picture of just how horny you are? 

Jesus, this man is gonna be the death of John Laurens.


	3. A Whole Lot of Something (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffershit and Altercations; Fate and Its Strange Doings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV's are overlapping kind of. Once again, sorry in advance for my shitty writing.
> 
> TW: hateful language, cursing, and sexting

 

 **the hot doctor:** i am so horny for you.

Alexander's cheeks redden suddenly from John's blunt text message. He never would've guessed that the freckled doctor was a forward guy, but then again, Alexander has never been a stuttering mess when it comes to putting the moves on potential partners. He just stares at the message in shock and reaches for his coffee. Instead of grabbing the mug, he accidentally dips his fingers into the piping hot liquid.

"Shit," he yelps jumping up from his desk. He drops his phone and knocks over the mug. He doesn't give a rat's ass about his phone. He's more concerned about the case file that he's been working on for the past three months. He scoops the papers into his hands and throw them in his chair. He starts to use scrap papers from his legal pad to soak up the coffee from his desk. 

"You do know that your desk is just going to be a sticky mess if you don't get a Clorox wipe or some shit, right," Ben Walker says his smart ass reply with his Brooklyn accent. He strides around Alex's desk and picks up his phone to see a not-so-appropriate message on the screen. Ben takes it upon himself to respond to the message clearly crossing the line of employer and employee right now.

"Get me some damn wipes then," Alex grumbles and looks up, "What the fuck is your Korean ass doing?" Alex stomps to his assistant and snatches his phone back. Alex looks to see a message sent, and his face pales.

 **alex:** Really? Do you think I can get a picture of just how horny you are?

"If we're being honest, I am getting you laid, Boss," Ben slowly backs out of the room, watching Alex carefully, "I am gonna get you those wipes you asked for." 

Alex locks his phones and stomping towards the slim assistant with the thought to kill. Ben makes a sprint for it, and Alex chases after him causing a ruckus in the office. He flies by the "Schuyler station" and makes a round by Madison to collide into someone who definitely wasn't Ben. Alex knew this because Ben would not be standing up straight with that type of impact. 

Alex looks to see it's his fucking lucky day.  _Sarcasm intended._ Thomas Jefferson is standing there with his signature scowl on his face looking down upon the Caribbean. Thomas Jefferson was a tall man that could put President Lincoln to shame. Too bad he's too much of a shit head to have any other comparison to Lincoln. "Alexander, must you be so childish? We have clients who pay good money to be represented by adults; not immigrant children," Thomas sneers.

"How would you know? You don't have any fucking clients, Jeffershit," Alex spews out as venomous as he could, "I don't know if the bigotry is eating at the little brain cells you have, but by the laws of the United States of America, I am a motherfucking citizen, you pussyfooting son of a bitch."

"Why don't you tell your mother and father? Oh wait, she's dead, and he abandoned the little failure that is you," Jefferson retorts with no remorse whatsoever.

His adversary's comment strikes a nerve. The statement about his father; he didn't give a shit about his father, but when you bring his mother into the mix, bitches are getting stitches. No one in the office anticipates Alex cocking his arm back and swinging his fist right in Jefferson's face. Matter of fact, when Thomas stumbled no one sees the blow that Alexander takes either. 

The fight goes on for another minute with Jefferson catching some punches to the face while Alexander takes a hit that breaks his nose. George Washington, the head of Washington and Dandridge, comes out of his office.

"What is the meaning of this?" The tall, dark man's voice bellows throughout the form resulting in Thomas and Alexander freezing. 

"He started it," the two adult men scream out in unison.

"I don't care who started it. I want to know why in the world are two of my most capable employees are having a brawl in a room full of their coworkers and company clients," the boss man questions the two with stern eyes on them.

Alex goes to open his mouth to shoot out his defense like any good lawyer would do. "I don't want to hear, Mr. Hamilton. This isn't the streets where you fight for some damn street cred," he goes on.

"Actually, guns would've been blastin' by now," Kitty Livingston, a local prostitute, says in a Southern accent. Everyone turns to look at her. "What? I've seen some things while hookering in New York. Especially that gangsta shit."

Alex nearly loses his cool because Kitty Livingston is a Southern Belle brunette talking about the streets like she wasn't raised on a farm in Alabama. "Ms. Livingston, this is not your concern," Washington assures her, "You two are on a two week suspension with pay. Just have this served as a warning because I will not hesitate to terminate your employment the next time this happens."

"Yessir," Alex and Thomas mumbles like scolded children.

"Alexander, go to the hospital. Your bleeding like a race horse," Washington orders.

Alex's hand flies up to his nose to feel a ton of blood coming out of his nose. "Dammit. Sir, I'll get right on that," Alex goes to walk towards the exit purposely knocking shoulder with Lieutenant Douchebag.

 

Alexander makes it to the hospital no problem. He alerts a nurse at the desk who in turns leads him to a bed in the ER. He sits on the end of the bed and plugs his nose. Out of complete boredom, he fishes his phone out of his pocket to check twitter when he catches a notification.

 **the hot doctor:** multimedia message

Alex opens it to see a dick. Not just any dick. John's dick, and it was impressive to say the least. Alex didn't expect to John to be packing like that. The girth. The length. Alex's mouth was watering like the whore he is. "Jesus," he mumbles under his breath. 

"Most people call me, Dr. Laurens," the doctor says looking at the chart. 

Alex is surprised to see the very man who sent him a dick pic standing before him. "You fit this giant thing in your scrubs," Alex asks turning his phone towards John.

John's brows are furrowed as he looks up to see Alex, and Alex's hand expanding a phone with John's freckled dick on it. Laurens blushes and snatches the phone away and locks it. "It fits just like everyone else's, moron," he mumbles embarrassed. He tilts Alex's head up to inspect his nose.

"Uh, I don't think so. Most people don't have a third leg for genitalia," he argues back.

John grabs some gloves and put them on. "You are over exaggerating. Now I need to set your nose back," he warns Alex.

"You ever heard Nicki Minaj's songs about taking the pipe because she was referring to your dick. Ouch!," Alex yelps as John sets his nose without any warning. "You could've warned me," he gripes.

"I did, but you were too busy talking about my dick. Now does anything else hurt?"

"My heart." Alex bats his eyes, and John gives him a deadpan expression. "Fine. My wrist hurts," he extend his wrist out to John.

John holds it gently, rotating it and watching for any sign of discomfort. Alexander hisses in pain during the maneuvering of his wrist. John scribbles something down in his chart. "Hey, Nance. Can you take Mr. Hamilton down to x-ray for a possible wrist injury?"

"Sure thing, Laurens," the redhead smiles taking the chart from John.

"I appreciate you, Nance, and the nurse profession. My God, you guys are blessings to the hospital," he says before leaving Alexander with Nance the Nurse.

In that moment, Alex realized three things.

_ONE._

John isn't a doctor who's an asshole to nurses. He respects nurses. Good. Great. Definitely earning brownie points for being a good fucking person.

_TWO._

John has a very nice penis, and he probably needs to schedule a dick appointment asap.

_and THREE._

John jacked off at work, and Alex is trying really hard not to have Woody during his x-ray thinking about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. I finally finished this chapter. It's been over a week since the last update. I am trying to have a schedule, but college is a lot of procrastination and time. Tell me how you like it so far. And yes, Alex is a thirsty ass bitch.
> 
> Their personalities and the way they allow people to see them are changing due to familiarity. So basically their masks are gonna wear off the more they interact. Alex is gonna snowball down that hill.


	4. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an actual update.

Hi guys! So here's the deal, I haven't updated in like a month because I have school and it's high on my list of priorities at the moment and finals are two weeks away (yikes). I will continue writing this when I am finish with the semester. I am not trashing it or anything. I am putting it on hold for about three more weeks. Thanks. See ya soon with another chapter!!!!


End file.
